Tangled With The Other Brother のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 131 - チャプター 140

Elena’s Point Of ViewThe dream was so good… so perfect, that I never wanted to wake up.I was floating, weightless, wrapped in warmth and the kind of bliss that made my toes curl and my breath hitch. The air smelled like him… like sandalwood and sin, like the kind of danger that made my pulse race even in sleep. His hands were everywhere, his voice a low, rough murmur in my ear, his lips trailing fire down my neck, my collarbone, lower.Lower.I could feel him, feel the way his touch burned through me, the way his breath ghosted over my skin, hot and possessive. My body arched into his, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, begging for more. The dream was so real, so vivid, that I could swear I felt the scrape of his stubble against my inner thighs, the way his tongue.Oh God, his tongue, was doing things to me that made my hips jerk, my back bow off the bed, my breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.Yes. Right there. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare, and then… I saw his f

Elena’s Point Of ViewI stared at him.At this hot, infuriating, stupid man.At the way his dark eyes burned into mine, his smirk so smug, so knowing, like he had already won. Like he knew I was his, even when I wanted to scream, even when I wanted to fight him. His body was pressed against mine, his cock buried deep inside me, stretching me, filling me, owning me in a way that made my toes curl and my breath hitch. His muscles flexed beneath my fingers, his skin hot, his scent… God, his scent wrapping around me like a promise, like a drug.And I hated it.I hated how much I wanted him.How much I needed him.How much he knew it.A growl built in my chest, raw and frustrated, and before I could even think, before I could let my brain catch up to the way my body was aching for him, I moved.My hands shot up, gripping his face, my fingers tangling in his hair as I yanked him down. My legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in place, my heels digging into his ass like I could brand h

Jaxx’s Point Of ViewThat hour? It didn't just pass. It burned.Every second was a heavy, blurring weight of her owning me. She wasn’t the "good girl" the Sinclairs tried to bury under their thumb. Not here. Not with me. She was a goddamn storm. Her body moved over mine with this desperate, reckless kind of hunger, like she was trying to scrub her husband’s touch off her skin using nothing but the friction of mine. Her moans... they weren't soft. They were jagged. Filling the room until the air felt too thick to actually breathe. Her nails dug into my shoulders, marking me, and her pussy… fuck, it was clenching around my cock like she was trying to hold onto the only real thing she had left.An hour.An hour of her riding me, tormenting me, owning me… her body moving over mine like she was made to ruin me, her moans filling the room.She took what she wanted. Every inch. Proving she wasn't some fragile, glass doll I could just bend and snap to my will.And fuck, had she ever.Now, s

Elena’s Point Of View“What…” My voice cracked. I swallowed, tried again. “What are you driving at, Jaxx?”The question hung there, fragile and exposed, like I’d just stepped onto thin ice and dared it not to break. I stared down at him, really looked at him this time. The sharp line of his jaw. The way his brows pulled together… not angry, not cold, just… restrained. Like he was holding something back by sheer force of will.For a long second, he didn’t answer.Then he groaned.Low. Rough. The sound vibrated straight through me, settling somewhere deep and warm in my chest. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, like my question physically hurt him.His hands tightened at my waist, thumbs pressing into my skin like anchors.“I’m not driving at anything complicated, princess,” he said finally, voice gravelly, stripped down. “Don’t make it more than it is.”I frowned slightly, my heart still racing. “Then what is it?”His gaze lifted to mine… steady, unflinching, heavy with intent.“I

Elena’s Point Of View“I don’t need anyone to tell me how beautiful I am before I know,” I said evenly. “I know I am.”For a split second, the man just stared at me.Actually stared, like my words had short-circuited whatever rehearsed confidence he’d walked over with. His brows lifted, lips parting slightly, and I could almost see him scrambling to recover. Men like him never expected pushback. Not real ones. They expected giggles, blushing, gratitude.Instead, I gave him indifference.Then he smiled.Not sheepish. Not apologetic. Amused.“Feisty,” he said, chuckling under his breath like he’d just discovered a new toy. “I like that.”My patience snapped.I shifted my weight, already half-turning away from him. “Excuse me,” I said flatly, “but those lines of yours are very much too cliché, and I wouldn’t be here listening to them if you hadn’t decided to interrupt my day.”He blinked, clearly not used to being dismissed mid-performance.“I was waiting for someone before you showed up